


to all of the better things

by mimsical



Series: there is a house by the sea and an ocean between it and me [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dildos, M/M, Queer Themes, Sex Toys, Strap-Ons, Trans Dirk Strider, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 23:20:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16942629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimsical/pseuds/mimsical
Summary: "It's just," Jake continues, "you look like you really love it? So, well, it makes a fellow wonder, you know, how's it feel?"Set a few months after the events ofsmile like a secret.





	to all of the better things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the main fic of this universe will be continued eventually, i promise. i have half of the next chapter written and have been picking away at it slowly.
> 
> for now, have another prequel of some good nervous baby queers.

"Does it really feel that good?" Jake asks suddenly.

Having expected to be getting fucked senseless by now, you think you're more than justified in the piteous moan you let out. "Don't stop, come on, please."

He shifts his hips, letting his dick slide in with tiny little thrusts, just enough to send sparks behind your eyelids and to be a merciless tease. "It's just," he continues, "you look like you really love it? So, well, it makes a fellow wonder, you know, how's it feel?"

You grope for the words that will make him speed up and get going. "It's like, like I've been turned into a fucking white hot tunnel of, I don't know, tingly feelings, and you're rubbing them over and over and making the tinglies turn into stabs that go right up my spine and, I, Jake, come on, can't we do this later, please fuck me."

He thrusts into your harder and you moan again, toes curling. "I'm rubbing, you said. Like a massage?"

You scrub your hand over your face and manage to open your eyes despite the burn of embarrassment you feel whenever you see his glazed-over expression of pleasure. "Sure," you say. "I mean, if the massage was fucking over some of the best — I don't know — pleasure glands in your whole body and melting your brain into a fucking chorus of 'more,' sure, maybe. Come _on._ "

"Hmm," Jake says, completely goddamn nonsensically, but he braces himself down on his elbows to kiss you and you gratefully let your eyes slide shut and sink into the rhythm that he _finally_ starts up.

* * *

Jake ambushes you with the idea while you're ostensibly supposed to be shopping for Jane's birthday present. Roxy stayed behind to work on the paper that you (smugly) have already completed, and you peeled off from Jane under the excuse of, "Top secret business, Janey!"

And, as only seemed logical, you'd stopped at one of your favorite shops in the town that borders your school to browse for gift ideas.

Jake is weirdly antsy, and you cast him sidelong looks as you eventually pick out a set of pins meant to go on the crown of a hat. They're various mustache shapes. She can't fault you for this gift; it is entirely her kind of thing, and her dad had gotten her a wide-brimmed hat last year that she wore all summer.

"Spit it out," you tell Jake after you pay for the hat pins and step back out into the street. 

He casts a nervous glance up and down the road, as if expecting to find people dropping from the eaves of all the houses. "Erm, I have a shop in mind I'd like to visit, if you're up for a bit of a circuitous detour."

"Uh, sure." You raise your eyebrow at him. "You want to lead the way, since this is apparently top secret business?"

He's… blushing. Okay. Jake has gone flushed-dark all the way from the tips of his ears to his nose. "Sounds like a bang-up plan!" he chirps, completely at odds with the way he can't meet your eyes and ignoring your prodding at what he's up to.

You take a second to shove the gift in your backpack (just in case you cross paths with Jane) and take Jake's hand. He blushes all over again and determinedly drags you off after him at a very fast pace for a shopping trip. Usually, you adopt a leisurely stroll for your afternoons on the town, unless you have to scurry back to the school sooner rather than later, but nope, Jake is a man on a mission today.

You let him power-walk you along for several twists through the town's cobblestone streets before you give up on trying to out-awkward him. "Man, where the fuck are we going?" you ask.

"To a shop, I told you."

"Uh huh." You nudge his side with your elbow, and he dances away with a wounded expression. "What's the name of this mysterious as all hell store?"

Jake pauses to examine a road sign with deep intent. "Spencer's," he says.

"Spencer's."

"Yup, that's the name."

"And what does 'Spencer' sell, exactly?"

"Well, I don't know if the gent himself is the one who does the dirty work of hawking wares! I took a peek in last week and there appeared to be some lady at the front, reading a magazine and waiting for customers, one could presume. Didn't stop to interrogate her as to the name of her boss, seemed rude just to start in with odd questions, you know?"

"Jake, for the love of fuck."

Jake tears his gaze away from the sign and rubs his nose nervously, nudges his glasses up higher. "Don't know if it's appropriate to say outright when we ourselves are outright in the hustle and bustle of town?"

You… stare at him for a few seconds. "A… sex store? A toy store?"

"Shh!"

You glance around. Nobody is looking at you. Nobody is even really near you, actually. "Spencer's Stupendously Strong Silver-plated Sticks," you say.

"Seems like a waste of good silver if you're shoving it up in your sticky parts," Jake says.

"That's why it's just silver- _plated,_ obviously." You have sympathy for his plight now, and studiously observe the sky rather than his face. "How much farther is it?"

Jake shrugs. "Couple more streets?"

"Cool. Well, lead on." You gesture him forward awkwardly, and Jake immediately resumes his high-velocity ambulation, which makes a lot more sense now. It's much easier to focus on getting some light exercise than on exactly why he's trying to surreptitiously usher you off to some illicit locale.

You arrive too soon, and also not soon enough. "Spencer's" turns out to be "Spencer's Secret Stash" and you're frankly horrified they couldn't come up with a better name. To your relief (and trepidation), the windows are darkened.

"After you," Jake says, throwing you under the horse without so much as a bat of his eyelashes. You shoot him a mildly scathing look, but face the wolves and go in first.

The door has a bell on it. Of course it does. It announces your presence loud and clear to any occupants of the shop. Stringently avoiding eye contact with the shopkeep, you march off into the shelves with Jake in tow.

Once you're sufficiently buried in the rows, and trying not to gaze around with too much interest, you turn to Jake and raise an accusing eyebrow. "See what you're looking for?"

Jake immediately splutters and flushes again. "I, erm! There're, um, lots of things that catch the eye in here, aren't there? I mean, some of them look intentionally built to be eye-catching, all the — the — colors."

His gaze hops around wildly while he talks, unable to settle on anything safe, until he finally decides to have a staring contest with your shoes. You wait him out.

"Let's just — can't we have a looksee around and, and then you get a chance to see if anything catches your fancy, and I'll…"

The more he evades, the more curious you feel. This whole thing is embarrassing as hell, so frankly whatever he's here for could be anything from extremely normal to as weird as possible.

"I'll let you know when I find it, alrighty?" Jake finally finishes with a tone of mild desperation.

You take pity on him and nod. "Sure, we can browse around for a bit until you find — whatever it is."

He nods back vigorously and immediately takes off past you to round the corner of the shelves. Fleeing _and_ abandoning you. Real classy, Jake.

You follow at a more sedate pace and examine the shelves covertly. Nobody else seems to be here, other than the clerk and, of course, your boyfriend, but. It still feels as though someone is going to take note of your interest. You could look at something that Jake is super not into for too long and make him uncomfortable, for one thing.

Around the corner, Jake is examining a display of collectible cards, each decorated with some form of pornographic art. _Collect the whole set!_ reads the sign. They're bigger than most playing cards you've seen. More like tarot for people in need of a little boost to their jacking.

To the wall on your right, there is an entire section designated solely for displaying different types of ropes. You think it's safe to assume your face is going to be flaming red the entire time you're in here, and settle for nudging Jake. "Are you done ogling illustrated asses?"

He guiltily jerks his head up. "I, yes, sorry."

"'Sokay," you say. "Can't blame you for checking out the best ass competition."

That gets you a laugh, and you relax a little bit. It helps that you're both equally embarrassed by this, you decide.

You both peruse an aisle of more magically inclined sexual aids, ranging from books of sigils to self-thrusting dildos to deodorizing charms. The latter item you actually pick up to examine more closely.

"In case, you know, for the dorms," you tell Jake. "Getting caught isn't high on my to do list for the year, you know?"

He giggles a little and nods. "Worth a shot," he agrees.

The next row of shelves is nearly entirely full of dildos. You rub your face to disguise your immediate interest, and sneak a glance at Jake, sidelong. He's… eyeing the shelves.

"Um," he says to you. "Do you see anything… oh, frig."

Jake weaves unexpectedly around you and waves a hand towards the shelf, mute.

You don't grasp the concept immediately, but one of the items comes with a helpful, hand-drawn diagram of a harness holding a protruding phallus in place on an anonymous pelvis and pair of hips. For a moment, you're speechless.

"You want…" You have to stop, lick your lips, try to clear the sudden dryness from your throat. "You want me to… wear that?"

It's something you'd only let yourself imagine sparingly, guiltily, glad enough already to be touched, to be cared for. Jake has given you so many things you hadn't thought you'd ever get to have from him. You feel hot and cold at once with longing, wanting to grab ahold of Jake and reel yourself in against him, feel the way he sighs with sudden pleasure against your mouth. You _want._

Jake nods, face uncertain. "Only if you want to," he manages.

You look at the harnesses again. It's hard to imagine it on yourself without feeling your throat close up, so you imagine him instead. His hands twisted into the blankets, your hands on his hips, his thighs, his legs around you. You feel dizzy with imagining.

Not sure exactly what to look for, you sort through the small assortment of harnesses silently until you decide which looks the most comfortable, with sturdy straps you can adjust for a tight fit. The material is leather, and it warms in your sweaty palms.

Picking a dildo is harder, because once you let yourself look, you want all of them, or nearly so, just disregarding the ones that are too large for you to wrap your mind around. But Jake picks up the little paper that comes with the harness and reads a few of the tips on it, and you're able to disregard more of them when you know you need a certain kind of base to fit the harness.

You manage to narrow your choices down slowly, setting aside the metal toys and their heaviness and examining some smoothed, sealed wooden ones instead. Jake is favoring one stained a soft periwinkle to match the container it comes in, you can tell, but you've picked up a box containing one made from a pale wood, maybe maple, just a handful of shades darker than your skin. It would almost look like a part of your body.

Jake has had the same thought, you can tell, judging by the soft way he's looking at you. Your hand closes around the lip of the box, embarrassed and covetous at once.

"That looks like a winner," he says, and you nod. You like the shape, too, a perfectly smooth shaft that curves gently upward into a more bulbous head, amorphously phallic but not so clearly defined.

"We should get an oil, too," you say. Jake's cheeks go dark again, but this time in a way you recognize as a precursor to arousal.

Together you pick out a no-frills oil that'll get the job done simply, and you listen attentively to the clerk, who tells you to wash the toy before and after use and to keep it in its protective bag with a hand-embroidered sigil on the front the rest of the time.

"Take care of it, and you could use it your whole life," she tells you, and your chest goes tight at the idea of keeping with you until you're an old man, like it really was a part of you.

You put your purchases in your bag with Jane's gift, and Jake takes your hand again as you walk back through town. He bumps his shoulder gently against yours when you're unusually quiet.

You muster a smile for him. "When do you want to…" You glance at a passerby, carrying a child on their shoulders. "Not yet, or…?"

Jake chews his lip. "Tonight?" he supplicates.

You duck your head to hide the way your grin flips over to genuine all at once. "Okay," you say, and squeeze his hand. "Tonight."


End file.
